(For momsy, because you help me pray)
Today you go to mass
a twin grace, one promised
another a perk
for forgiving.
The absolution is
for the suffering
for the thousand sorrows
for the thousand penitences
that never end.
You savor the autumn
afternoon guarding
the church door
filled with missteps,
human and priestly.
The incense fills
you and the days
in your dream
become as heady
as spring awakening
even if the flowers
have yet to christen
the red rites
of resurrecting remembering,
making the act a covenant
for believing.
The altar birds
in this late fall
do not sing,
the tabernacle plants
die a little,
the buds wither
in the wet weather,
you are late
for the early laughter.
Aurelio S. Agcaoili
Torrance, CA
2004
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